


Eddie

by koala_cubed



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Delia Busby & Patsy Mount - Freeform, KIND of canon, Multi, Pupcake - Freeform, multi ship I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koala_cubed/pseuds/koala_cubed
Summary: Set just after Tom and Barbara's wedding, this is a kind of canon fic about life at Nonnatus. Lots of fluff and hints of Pupcake to come but mostly Sister Monica Joan background and the introduction and backstory of Eddie so far x





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kind of canon idea that's been milling around in my head for a while.. it's kind of a Pupcake fic but mostly focuses on life at the lovely Nonnatus. I've taken a lot of liberties with regards to sister Monica Joan's backstory, and the addition of a whole new character but I hope you love sweet angel Eddie as much as I do. It's set a few weeks after Patsy's return and Barbara and Tom's wedding. Please bear with me regarding updates - I'm in the thick of exam season at the moment. Anyway, enjoy and please be sure to comment and tell me what you think! X

It was a gloriously crisp and sunny morning in Poplar, the streets were bustling with market vendors, children were playing with a football in the street, and Hana Gloriana Rosario was full to the brim with the newfound splendour of an English winter morning.

Hana's boat had docked in poplar early that day. Traveling all the way from America, Hana sought a new life of opportunities in London, just as her parents had done in America 20 years before, when they left everything they knew to come from Portugal. The memory of her parents stirred a deep sense of warmth and nostalgia in Hana as she pondered how her parents must have felt arriving in the States.

Even though her Mai and Pai had passed away when she was five, thirteen years ago, she still remembered the scent of her mother: lavender soap and freshly baked bread from the bakery where she worked. Her father, on the other hand, always had rough calloused hands and smelled of engine oil, for he was a mechanic's apprentice. She remembered that whenever she felt scared, she would look into his warm eyes and he would cup her face with his big hands and reassure her to 

"Take a breath, meu amorzinho".

Hana remembered his advice and took a deep breath in and closed her eyes, not quite believing she was here. She felt joy at the start of her new life, but the breath only slightly calmed her worry about what to do next - arriving with only the suitcase she was holding and no plan for where to go after she arrived in London, Hana again remembered her father's words:

"The good Lord will provide, he always has and he always will, meu amor". 

With these words in mind, Hana took up her suitcase and set off, walking through the streets of Poplar, enjoying the morning and looking for a place to get some food.

Hana herself was an eighteen year old girl, full of optimism - you could see it on her face, she had her father's smiling eyes and dimples in her cheeks. Her hair was thick, curly, dark and completely unmanageable. She had tried to comb it into a properly sophisticated updo, but no matter how many kirby grips or how much lacquer she used, tendrils of wispy hair poked out at her ears, reminding her that she was still almost a child. Her spectacles were round with a tortoise shell pattern, as was the fashion back home; whenever she was interested in something (which was nearly always) her eyes would light up and Hana would excitedly push her glasses up her nose, as they were often falling down. Her winter coat was a wonderfully thick, knee length, deep burgundy and Hana loved wearing it because it had been a gift from her older brother. She had always valued the fact that his last gift to her before he joined the military was a coat - it wrapped her up and protected her from the cold wind of England, just as he had protected her when she was a little girl. She was glad for the coat now as although the sun was shining, the weather was still very cold.

She walked along the busy street, under a bridge and came to a lovely building with a porch and stone steps. The faded sign outside read 'Nonnatus House'. In front, as she walked past, Hana spotted a lovely little kitchen garden with vegetables and a few shrubs growing.

Hana, in a cheerful mood, approached to compliment the gardener who was currently pulling some weeds at the front of the plot. The gardener, who introduced himself as Fred, was a portly man in his sixties with a thick London accent and a cheeky smile. He gave a firm handshake and Hana decided that she liked him. After Hana introduced herself, the reason for her visit to Poplar and had praised the neat garden, Fred opened the gate with a smile and a bow -

"Would the lady care for a tour of our extensive grounds?" He asked, offering his arm to Hana. 

She laughed, curtsied and took his arm, replying "Certainly, my good sir". 

They walked slowly, Fred pointing out each plant until they reached the end of the bed, where he stopped and sighed in exasperation, looking pointedly at a cluster of dandelions in the neatly sown bed of carrots.

"That woman will be the death of me! She's always re plantin' the weeds, says some kind o' poetry nonsense about how a weed is just a flower we decide is in the wrong place" 

Hana was puzzled, but intrigued. "Is she your wife, Mr Buckle?" 

"Oh no no lass, she ain't my wife. Her name's Sister Monica Joan and she lives here at Nonnatus. She's a lovely old woman but she went and lost her marbles a good few years back. The nuns look after her at the house - in her golden years, she was a pioneering midwife here, but now she mostly talks nonsense in verse - well, nought that I can understand anyway"

Fred sighed again, Hana could see the affection he clearly had for the old woman, but at the same time how he desperately wanted to get rid of the pesky weeds in his bed.

As if on cue, Sister Monica Joan appeared at the back door with a pot of jam in one hand and a book in the other. Her habit was slightly lopsided and she looked incredibly jubilant as she turned to greet Fred. 

"Mr Buckle! I have come to request of your dear wife, some more preserves - each batch is more delicious than the last and somehow there is only one more vessel left!" she cried, punctuating her last word with a lick of her jam covered finger, the book now placed down on the step. 

"Now then Sister, I know for a fact that Vi sent over three jars of marmalade only two days ago. Do you mean to tell me that you've finished them all already?" Fred replied

"The preserves are in high demand, Mr Buckle, as I'm sure you know. I beseech you - "

Sister Monica Joan's speech is cut off as she registers Hana's presence next to Fred. There is a pause while Sister Monica Joan takes in the sight, looking a little confused but joy slowly spreading on her face.

"Edith? Is that you, my love?" Sister Monica Joan asks incredulously

Hana turned quickly and caught Fred's eye, puzzled. She certainly isn't Edith, whoever she is. Fred shook his head quickly, his eyes widening - he'd never heard of an Edith either.

Without waiting for a reply, Sister Monica Joan, apparently convinced now that Hana was in fact someone called Edith, let out a whoop of joy. The jar of marmalade was dropped in haste and smashed on the stone paving, but Sister Monica Joan paid no heed. She set off down the path at an impressive speed for someone her age, and before Hana could even comprehend what was going on, she was enveloped in an enthusiastic flurry of hugs and kisses from the now weeping nun.

Hana was in shock, but thankfully didn't push the Sister away; she was perceptive for her age and realised that this woman who was so glad to see her must be the ailing Sister Monica Joan. Nevertheless, she didn't know the old woman and did her best to comfort the Sister but also endeavoured to maintain her personal space, with a few pats to her back as she was hugged, giving Sister Monica Joan a small squeeze in return. 

Sister Monica Joan on the other hand, was not holding back. Tears flowed freely down her wrinkled cheeks as she cupped Hana's face with both her hands - staring into her eyes and exclaiming.

"My sweet darling! I cannot dare to believe you are indeed here, and not some hazy apparition! Those eyes! Those same eyes! hazel hued, late autumnal, perhaps even leonine.... your Father's eyes... yes........ David..my sweet sweet darling.."

Despite the fact that Sister Monica Joan is clearly not lucid, Hana was taken aback by how deep a connection the Sister seems to remember having with the character Edith, the way she gazed into her eyes like she was remembering a face she had so well memorised. After a few moments of embracing, Fred placed his hand on the Sister's arm, gently leading her away from a still slightly winded Hana. Hana noted his experience in softly talking to the old woman -

"Now then, Sister. Why don't we go inside? Your Edith here must have had a long tiring journey. I'm.. I'm sure you could use a sit down too, my love"

"Oh yes Mr Buckle" replied Sister Monica Joan. "After all, any journey requires replenishment, preferably in the form of baked goods. Come along my dear." Sister Monica Joan took Hana by the arm and began to lead her up the path, she graciously followed suit.

However, before the door could be reached, a second nun appeared at the doorway. Hana registered and took in the figure of Sister Julienne with interest. She was younger than Sister Monica Joan, but still in her late 60s, her habit was immaculate and Hana could tell from just a quick look at her face that she carried herself with grace and good character. Hana decided she liked her too. Sister Julienne looked worried, as if accustomed to hurriedly following Sister Monica Joan around, watching out for her. Hana realised that the smash of the marmalade jar on the paving must have been a worrying noise to hear - she understood why the second nun must have run out to investigate. 

"Sister! Are you quite alright? Whatever was that smashing sound? Fred! What happened to.." Sister Julienne registered Hana's presence and slowed her tone, extending a hand in greeting. "Good morning young lady, my name is Sister Julienne, I run Nonnatus House. Is anything the matter?"

"Oh no ma'am, I'm quite alright. My name is Hana Rosario, I was just being escorted round your lovely garden here, I've now become acquainted with Sister Monica Joan here" 

At the mention of her name, Sister Monica Joan grasped Sister Julienne's hands in excitement "Sister! The day has finally arrived! I thought I would have to await the day when the good Lord took me home to heaven for me to be reunited with my love, but here she is! In the flesh! We are together once more, for she is in my arms!"

"My dear dear Eadie", Sister Monica Joan whispered, while caressing Hana's hair.

Hana smiled and said nothing, for she knew that the best thing to do for someone with Dementia was not to constantly remind them of reality, but to care for them in their own reality, as long as it was safe to do so. Hana had known of an old man who forgot his brother had died, but every time he asked for him, he was told by his son that his brother was dead. This was harmful to him because every time, around five times a day, it was as if the man was hearing the tragic news for the first time - it crushed him. Hana learnt that what was best was to say "oh, I'm sure he'll be along in a bit" or, "don't mind him being late, you know how he is" Hana decided to do the same kindness for Sister Monica Joan, as the person Eadie, whoever she was, clearly meant a lot to the Sister. 

Sister Julienne's features softened and she spoke to Sister Monica Joan with such care, Hana was touched. 

"Your Eadie, Sister Monica Joan?" She asked

"Indeed, she is!"

"Well, she is truly as beautiful as you have described, Sister. A credit to you, and to David."

Sister Monica Joan nodded in besotted agreement, while Hana still smiled in confusion. 

Sister Julienne turned to Hana, her voice still low and gentle. Hana decided she liked her even more. "Now, lets all go inside if you don't mind, Hana. I do apologise for all this confusion but we'll arrange some cake and give you some answers to questions I'm sure you have right now. Then, you may be on your way."

Leaving Fred looking bewildered in the garden, Sister Julienne led Sister Monica Joan gently by the elbow into Nonnatus, all while Sister Monica Joan insisted on holding Hana's hand. Hana was surprised at the woman's grip, wondering what their connection is. Nevertheless, the Sister was certainly reluctant to let go of her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An update! Yes, it's me! Please be patient as I don't have a beta and I'm pretty overcome with school work. Would appreciate any comments or suggestions for things you want to read x
> 
>  
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter where our sweet Eadie will get her answers!

Hana was led through the great door into a marvellous dark wood panelled hallway. Despite the fact that the building was a convent, Hana felt like she could easily feel at home in this place; the smell of baking wafted from the kitchen at the end of the hall, she could hear faint laughter coming from upstairs and the building just smelled of history. It didn't; it smelled of wood varnish and baked bread, but Hana loved poetic language and the place did seem full of the past - she loved that.

Still holding Sister Monica Joan's hand, she was led into a comfortable but small lounge area. The armchairs were mismatched, worn and full of character, and the bookshelves full to the brim of old books, presumably about midwifery. A small television was against the wall. Hana followed Sister Monica Joan to a settee, the Sister sat down and happily patted the space next to her, indicating for Hana to sit.

Tea was brought from the kitchen along with some buns. Hana had never had English buns before - they were intriguing; golden brown with sticky white icing and a cherry on top, glistening like a precious ruby. That tasted delicious too.

"Thank you for your hospitality sister Julienne, these buns are delicious" 

While Hana ate her bun and engaged in small talk with Sister Julienne, Sister Monica Joan still had Hana's hand clasped between hers in her lap. Her hands were soft and warm; to Hana they felt like decades of care and a healing touch. The elderly nun's wrinkled digits caressed Hana's palm and traced her knuckles in a familiar way, curling and uncurling her fingers in an way that reminded Hana of the sea, but also not of the sea at all. 

Sister Monica Joan turned to Hana, grasping both her hands and touching the deep red nail polish she had on her fingernails stubby short from biting "My love, a red, red rose..." she brought one of Hana's hands to her cheek and continued to recite slowly, with teary eyes: "As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, so deep in love am I: And I will love thee still, my dear, till all the seas go dry"

Hana, a little emotional, recognised the poem and said quietly "Burns?"

Sister Julienne also seemed somewhat pensive, although Hana didn't know why. "Yes, our Sister has a fondness for verse, although I've never heard her recite any Robert Burns before"

"He was David's favourite poet, although I always preferred Keats. Many tumultuous afternoons were spent between us debating the merits of Scottish poetry.. I find these moments elude me in my old age.. but now my Eadie has returned, the memories flow with abundance!"

Sister Julienne gave a small smile to Hana and said gently to Sister Monica Joan "Sister, why don't you go to the kitchen and help Mrs B prepare a welcome tea for Edith, she has had a long journey and I would like to speak with her now so she may have time to rest before tea."

"Very well" the Sister replied, "I shall go and acquire for us copious amounts of cake, for it is a joyous day!". Sister Monica Joan toddled off along the corridor into the kitchen after blowing a little kiss to a, now fond, Hana.

When the Sister was out sight, Sister Julienne turned to Hana with an outstretched arm and a wise look (Hana decided she really liked her) "Now, my dear. I imagine you have so many questions for me about what just happened. To tell you the truth, I am full of questions also. However, I will endeavour to give you the truthful answers you deserve about our dear Sister's life"

"Yes. And of Eadie?"

"Of Eadie most of all"


End file.
